Here I Am
by Casting Moonlight
Summary: Younglings instinctively flocked to Earth once the Allspark landed there. They have been there all this time in stasis, waiting for the Prime's arrival. Rated T for very mild language.


**Title:** Here I Am  
><strong>PairingsCharacters: **Optimus, Ratchet, Ironhide, Jazz, Bumblebee, Sam, Mikaela, Lennox, Epps, Galloway, mentions of Megatron, Sentinel Prime, and Rodimus, prime, and five unnamed cannon younglings.  
><strong>Verse:<strong> G1  
><strong>Words:<strong> 11,763  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Mention of character death, language.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Younglings instinctively flocked to Earth once the Allspark landed there. They have been there all this time in stasis, waiting for the Prime's arrival.  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own anything.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> This was a bunny from LJ by Kirin-saga! I absolutely fell in love with it! Here is the bunny:

Plot Bunny: Bayverse. _Younglings below a certain age instinctively flocked to Earth once the Allspark landed there. They have been there all this time, waiting for the Prime's arrival. Inspired by Here I Am by Bryan Adams. Suggested Younglings: Prowl and Blaster. And many others._

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Cybertron.<p>

A world of metal, wires, and electric energy. A world where metallic beings that resembled the robots viewed upon with the creative fondness of humanity on the long distant planet Earth, were born, upgraded, and eventually started the cycle over again. Like every planet there was a source of religion and like every religion there was a God to build it upon. The God of these large metal beings called Cybertronians had been given a name. He was called Primus.

In that name was the hope and prayers of every created spark. Primus blessed each and every one of his creations with a part of himself, a spark that acted as their very life-source and soul; also to return one cycle and in doing so bring back all that they had learned in that life.

These Cybertronians had no connection with Primus in the physical aspect, like many other religions spanning the Universe, except for the ground they walked upon. Only the Great Primes(1), the original seven Cybertronians, had ever laid optics upon Primus but with great awe they told stories of him to the younger generations. How after creating them, he created an energon-rich world from his own frame so he could support his sparklings for the vorns to come. Every structure was built with the prayers of Primus to hold it strong on his foundation and prevent collapse of their cities and towns. Every cube of energon was consumed with the awareness that it was the plasma of their God given to them selflessly.

An outsider might consider it odd and possibly even claim Primus to be irresponsible with his Creations to leave them alone in such a way. The Cybertronians knew better. Primus had given his body to give his Creations a place to live. He had sacrificed his own frame to bring them safety.

On the surface of Cybertron, he had also given them a special gift carefully guarded within a large temple-like structure of unknown metal substance. The metal had a habit of sending out electronic interference and currents that turned off comm. links, broke any sort of gun that approached within a certain radius of the temple, shattering hand-held weapons that held intent of malice within their function.

An unknown source sent out a wave of unknown energy that settled on the systems of every Cybertronian in a manner of calming. The temple never seemed too small, nor too big. Though the temple consisted of the entrance hall and beyond that the large room where the Cube was suspended in a never-faltering hover, sometimes doors would appear that were not there before and lead to rooms that suited the needs of the mech or femme who found the door.

Violence was forbidden and never considered within the temple.

Within the temple, the gift given, was a massive cube of mysterious origin. It seemed beyond anything ever seen on Cybertron and one of the Great Primes admitted that the Cube was a mystifying object even to them. Despite the mystery surrounding the cube, it was accepted whole-sparkedly by the Cybertronians and became a open access location for all, no matter the rank or standing. The temple would not be closed to those who wished to be there. Over time, certain ideas became custom or tradition that would center around the cube.

Couples who wished to bond would approach the Cube and test their compatibility within the Temple and trust whatever feelings or revelations came to them without consulting a trained medic afterwards. Those who did believe in their bond and did not feel as though it was a bad idea would forgo a public union and pledge their love before the Cube. Enforcers and Elite Guard Officers would enter the Temple and repeat their oaths before the Cube; many other vows were declared within the Temple. The reason for such dedication was the strong belief that through this Cube channeled the will of their dormant God.

This belief was supported by the science-defying Temple it lay within but also one more important reason.

The Cube granted life.

Sparklings. The beginning of every Cybertronian's long life-cycle.

Primus had created sparks and delivered them into the one hundred protoforms built by the Great Primes, the start of the Cybertronian race. The Cybertronians however were at a loss on how to further create their own families. As long as Cybertronian life-cycles were, they would not live forever.

It was when Vector Prime visited the Temple a few short vorns after Primus went dormant, and within it found two small sparklings curled at the base of the Cube chirring contentedly in recharge, did the Great Primes understand. The pair of sparklings held within their spark chambers radiant golden sparks, not the brilliant blue that every other Cybertronian had. Though these two sparklings were not Primes, they were titled Solus Prime and Solis Prime(2). The first Carriers of Cybertron.

A couple could approach the Cube with a built protoform and pray to Primus to give it spark. There used to always require a medic during these visits, to ensure that nothing went wrong. Soon enough, the medics were not necessary within the Temple. Any sparkling that was born within the walls was healthy; at least for that time but the Creator and 'Carrier' would have to care for this sparkling like any other.

It wasn't always a sure accord when you prayed for a sparkling. Sometimes a sparkling would bloom to life on the large altar that was underneath the Cube. Yet other times, the protoform would remain lifeless. The sorrow was great for those who left with their empty protoform but any Cybertronian refused their sparkling would later thank Primus that they were. Whether it was legal or natural, the couple would find themselves in situations that a sparkling would not have been optimal in.

The Cube knew when to grant life and when to withhold it.

Not that sparking a sparkling with the Cube was the only method. A couple could spark and get their sparkling perfectly fine as long as a medic and a protoform were ready. However with this option, two Cybertronians could only ever spark a Cybertronian that could spark another, not able to carry themselves. That was an important purpose of the Cube. To provide Carriers into the world, blessed with a spark strong enough to carry another; and to mark them, the energy that infused the protoform would form a golden spark within their spark chamber.

Thus, the importance of the Cube was astronomically high. Without the Cube, there would be no more Carriers to arrive on Cybertron and with no more Carriers an eventual end to the Cybertronian race during the recesses of time. It was only natural that the Cybertronians would want to protect it and the Great Primes made it so that the Cube, along with it's apparent Primus-built temple, was given around the cycle watch by a trustful and dedicated guard.

The Great Primes, content with it's safety, left to search out new energy sources with a large group of brave seekers when it became clear that resources were becoming a little scarce because of the massive population now occupying Cybertron. Appalled at the rumors of possible mining that was digging deep into the frame-work of their beloved planet, the Great Primes sped through the cosmos looking for solar systems that held no life in order to collect the necessary energy for energon conversion; hoping to give their planet a reprieve and replenish itself.

Following their absence came a call for leadership. Sentinel Prime, an elder Prime who had elected to stay behind, declined the offer of leadership and instead the fiery spark of Rodimus Prime, one of the third generation Primes, appeared in the empty slot of their leaders. Unfortunately power does not take long to corrupt it's wielder and through the rule of Rodimus the black tendrils of corruption began.

War.

Cybertron had seen it's share of wars. All civilizations had them sooner or later. What was to come, however, would be the test of the planet and it's inhabitants to the greatest measure. A measure that not even the long-lasting Golden Age would be able to bare.

It happened quickly enough for it to escalate the entire planet into madness.

The Great Primes had not returned in their foretold time and it made every Cybertronian worry for their leaders out in the depths of space. Seekers that had stayed behind on Cybertron volunteered to span across the route of space their leaders had taken and locate them. Rodimus Prime, leader for many, many vorns feared the return of the Primes and the resulting drop in status that his rank of being one of the third generations would follow with their arrival back on Cybertron. Thoughtless and recklessly hoping to keep his position secure, he made a snap order for every seeker to be grounded until such time as the Great Primes returned.

Chaos ensued slowly from there as Rodimus forced through grandiose speeches, Cybertronians of lower positions in society and smaller sub-standard cities to mine deep into Cybertron for energon; a fate for the planet the Great Primes had risked their lives to avoid. Enraged and disgusted, the miners had to work tirelessly at their tasks and as tempers raised Rodimus became more and more paranoid in his leadership. He created overly restricting laws upon the Cybertronians he had promised to look after and enforced the rules without a hint of mercy.

The final straw was when Rodimus ordered that every mech or femme with a golden spark was to be registered for future plans. This law frightened the civilians beyond any other Rodimus had laid down before. As bondmates, families, and friends tried to hide the Carriers away from Rodimus and his Elite Guard force a civil battle broke out in every single city-state Cybertron had.

Enforcers, now mixed with former Elite Guard officers, had long been revolted by the laws took up arms with the civilians and guided them through the battles that were launched by both sides. In the wake of these revolutions, the seekers rose in fury at their grounded status and joined an unspoken alliance with the civilian and Enforcer 'groundlings'. Down in the made tunnels of Cybertron, inspiration by the growing out-of-hand civil dispute fueled miners and handed them their excuse; and they were also given the rage-induced support from the civilians. The beginning of their own personal rebellion against Rodimus Prime.

From the fire and fury came the future tyrant and former Lord High Protector, Megatron. He tore the little civil battles and revolts and dragged them into the coals to ignite the inferno that would consume the entire planet. Methodically he rounded up his support; miners, civilians, and seekers and began to hunt down the Elite Guard. Those who feared all out war were spared Megatron's ruthless attention and were shaded with neutrality. The neutrals now hid from both sides of this growing feud. Protection occasionally came from Megatron's forces and for a while it seemed he was truly Cybertron's Protector.

Nothing prepared them for the cycle Rodimus Prime was brutally murdered by Megatron's hand, before his entire army. It should have ended. A bloody ending to a horrible revolution.

It didn't end. That very cycle the former Lord High Protector raged through Kaon, destroying all in his path that had not marked themselves with his purple insignia. On that cycle and none could stop his mysterious inferno of fury; not even Sentinel Prime who fought against him for the life of his misguided younger brother, Rodimus. What remained of the Enforcers, Elite Guard, and civilians, ones who refused the insignia, ran from his ire. It was all they could do. Leaderless and without hope, they continued to run.

Megatron, their once beloved military protector, had become the terrible tyrant of Cybertron.

It was only by the grace of Primus himself, that on the cycle Megatron reached toward the Temple to seize the Cube there was a surprisingly ferocious force to greet him.

Seemingly from the ash of destruction, Optimus Prime rose from obscurity.

A long forgotten descendant of the Great Primes.

The youngest of their legendary dynasty.

Optimus Prime entered the plasma and fire to round up those who ran in fearful hopelessness and lead a group of mechs that would be called the Autobots against Megatron and his army of Decepticons.

. . .

Optimus trailed off from his story of his, their's, all of Cybertron's past, watching the star-filled night sky with a far-away sort of intentness. Being a robotic organism, his memories were as clear as the cycle he experienced them and these particular memories were often hard to bury again.

He heard a small choking sound near his feet and he looked down upon the two humans that had inspired the story to be told. Samuel Witwicky and his probably-permanent-mate(or as the human term went, girlfriend) Mikeala Banes were sitting cross-legged on the sandy beach with leaking red tinged eyes. Optimus had sought out the long white sandy beaches of Diego Garcia for peace and quiet. There was only so much of Liaison Galloway a Prime could take before praying to Primus for something rash, and rather un-Autobot, to be done.

His two human friends had not found him on purpose as they had in fact been on a 'romantic' walk along the beach and stumbled across him the only way two six to five foot organics could. They had been allowed at the NEST base if only because Bumblebee had snuck them onto the island and it had been far to late in construction of the base to worry about two teenagers who had survived the days leading and to Battle City ordeal, leaking information about the 'giant ass-kicking robots' or so the NEST operative Robert Epps had affectionately called them.

Captain Will Lennox had taken to scolding the sheepish teenagers while Optimus had scolded his young scout. However Optimus had agreed with Lennox when the human asked, "Can we help it, big guy? Sam and Mikaela knew just about everything before now, and they already knew from Bumblebee that you guys were here anyway."

After asking if they could join him in a star-gazing session, he had of course said yes though star-gazing was not what he was doing, it hadn't taken the human curiosity long to surface and the questions spilled from them. Why he was out here, how the war reached Earth, where Cybertron was, and the other three questions of when, who, and what on any subject he lingered on.

Optimus had seen no trouble in telling the tale of Cybertron to these two humans. After all these brave organics had faced the army of Decepticons and Megatron's wrath, risking their own lives to protect the Cube. They deserved knowledge on to what exactly they had risked themselves for.

"Were... Were all of you in that force? Ironhide, Bumblebee, Jazz?" Sam asked trying to subtle wipe away the salty liquid that fell down his face. Optimus considered the question reaching for his history that to him was not all that long ago, but to a human spanned centuries.

"No, not all of us were there at the time. Bumblebee had yet to receive his spark at that time and Jazz was not part of the Temple guardians. Ratchet... is a medic. He is always working with Primus to save the lives of our comrades. Ratchet moved through Cybertron's city-state's facilities to treat whoever needed aide with no care for credits in return. The medics of Cybertron were in charge of guarding the sparklings of Primus, not the Cube itself." Optimus explained and paused for a moment to continue, "Ironhide was with me at the Temple when Megatron first arrived there. He had been a guardian of the Cube longer than I had been alive. He, Ultra Magnus, Sentinel Prime, and the remaining guardians stood with me when I took a stand against Megatron... only Ironhide and myself are left from the first ranks of Autobots."

"Ultra Magnus? Was he like... well, a Prime?" Sam questioned, grinning slightly.

Optimus shook his head, "No. He was strong and a true warrior. Ultra Magnus taught and learned from Ironhide and both of them taught me. Ultra Magnus... was a very dear friend, Samuel."

Looking back up to the stars he decided to indulge upon the humans a secret that was long obsolete now, "When the war began extending and more and more civilians began to take sides, he took a crew of Autobots to take the Cube and keep it safe from reach from the Decepticons. I told no one of this plan. All Cybertronian have a connection to the Cube and they would have preferred it to stay on Cybertron. Ultra Magnus' mission appeared to be a retrieval mission; to track it and to keep it safe as he returned it to Cybertron."

"A few deca-cycles after that, Sentinel Prime escaped Cybertron with a crew of his own. The ship they piloted carried a powerful item that had to be kept from Decepticon hands at all costs. Over the following orns, both of their ships and all communications were lost soon after each lift into space... I fear they are _all_ extinguished." Speaking of his friend and father figure created a solemn twinge in his spark and he sighed, hoping against his own words that somewhere out there his close comrades still lived.

"Optimus... I can understand that the guardians of the Cube would be there but why were you at the Temple and not leading beside Rodimus Prime? As a Prime wouldn't you, like, be next in line or some kind of adviser?" Mikaela asked, wiping her eyes carefully. Apparently femmes of this world wore some type of substance called 'eye liner' around their eyes and 'freaked out' if it was disturbed.

"As Rodimus Prime ruled the planet with Sentinel as his advisor, I was both born and raised in the Temple of the Cube. I, quite against my own opinion, became a symbol of physical extension of Primus. I was confused by their belief, I admit. I had been sheltered in the Temple and so I did not understand that the comfort and reassurances I gave to the Cybertronians who visited were anything special. It was only when I, ah, _visited_ the outside I began to see just what was going on. I did not believe that I was an extension of Primus but I felt it was my duty to give hope to anyone who sought it."

There were no more questions following his last answer and he continued to track the skies intently in the serene silence with only the gentle rumblings of breaking waves to interrupt it. Faint aches in his neck cued that his time of watching for any new arrivals was over.

Every night he ventured out and would watch the sky, hoping his comrades had found and heard his message, proof that he was still functioning and he had found a safe location, a new world to call home until the day that Cybertron could recuperate. However, as with the last few deca-cycles, nothing hinted that anyone had received his message yet.

"Prime?"

"Yes Samuel?" Optimus answered the human quietly, peering down at him.

"You... you said that the Cube gave sparks to, uhhh... protoforms? Well, the Cube is gone now so... does that mean that you, I mean Cybertronians, are going to, uh, go extinct?"

Optimus tilted his head and accessed the World Wide Web for the definition of the word and then straightened, feeling his spark pulse hard against his sparkchamber's walls. Solemnly he returned his gaze to the stars, hoping to see something, the burn of what would appear ot be an asteroid or the white streaks of molten metal arcing in a downward spiral, that would show that someone was entering the Earth's atmosphere.

His hope went unheeded and finally, he answered heavily, "I... am afraid so, Samuel." A selfish desire pitted itself in his processor and Optimus looked down at Sam and Mikaela, "The temperature is dropping into non-optimal levels. Should you head inside?"

He watched Sam's face screw up in confusion and he hoped the human would simply go; leave.

Optimus was not lying. The temperature really was dropping quite low but nothing that the pair of humans couldn't handle. His polite modesty however, did not want to rudely send them away so bluntly.

"But-"

"He's right. It's getting pretty chilly." Mikaela cut him off as she stood and brushed off the sand that the gentle wind had scattered on her clothing. Optimus observed her sharp look at Sam as he started to whine and she grabbed his arm, hauling him away as she said firmly, "Sam, I have to help out Ratchet tomorrow on repairing Jazz and I really, really, don't want to be coughing my lungs out via a cold while doing so! We're going inside!"

"But-"

"Think of hot chocolate, Sam."

Optimus watched them head back to base quietly and made a note to thank Mikaela on her assistance and observational skills.

Humans. They were so much like younglings. Curious, bright, and always seeking out the answers to any question their processor developed. They sought adventures head on with no idea the great obstacles in their path but performed them anyway.

Optimus vented a gust of air, beginning to trudge through the sand that formed the beach, ignoring the prickling on his sensors from grains getting stuck in his feet.

There had been one last batch of sparklings that had been created during the war from the Cube. After Optimus had relocated the Cube into a deep cavern -after all what better place to hide the Cube than inside the framework of Primus- he had used his own spark-energy to infuse a salvaged, but unharmed protoform with energy and along with the Cube's own force, creating a spark.

Bumblebee had been the first attempt. Hesitant to try again unless he was certain that Bumblebee would not fade over the next few vorns, he had cared for the sparkling until he reached younglinghood. Confident then, he had tasked his bondmate and her warrior femmes to locate more protoforms and performed the exact procedure on them. He could still remember their little hands holding onto his armor, their true strength little but strong in love, and big trust-filled optics that sought him out for guidance.

It was an insight, after creating so many sparklings, to just how Primus must have felt when he had created the Great Primes in the beginning of time. Primus had given his entire frame to support his sparklings; Optimus would not have hesitated to have done the same. He had visited his sparklings as constantly as the war would allow him, always taking the time for each one of them. The little sparklings had upgraded in a faked peace with determined femmes doing all they could to shelter their young processors from the war being waged above them.

A few of them had faded in the following orns and he had grieved each one of their evaporated sparks. Soon enough however, the remaining sparklings had entered their youngling stages, in different time allotments of course. He had had no greater relief than to hear of the success from Elita-1. He had been sorrowful to have missed such a momentous occasion but his bondmate had been a calming presence to each of them in times he was absent, the upgrade procedure had been no different.

Optimus had spared an entire thirty joors to travel down to the cavern and relax with his younglings the next cycle.

Optimus lowered his optics to the sand and halted, watching the sea water lick at his right foot.

Cybertronians could cry despite being beings of metal. Why they did was a mystery but medics chalked it up to copy-cat programming from a foreign organic alien species. Their programming once only allowed facial expressions to be expressed, but then the concept of tears, 'red-plates' that were similar to a human blushing, and other type of emotional actions were available. On Earth there was wind-shield wiper fluid and those served as tears though it was a limited supply, only as much as the vehicle, or for equipment 'formers like tape decks or satellites there was the lightly tinted pink tears of diluted energon, could hold.

It was not that Optimus could not dip into the container of water that was joint-connected to his optics, it was that he wouldn't.

He was a Prime; Ratchet might have as well removed that section of his inner workings entirely but he never would. Placing a hand over his face in sorrow, he kept his optics clear but allowed the emotion to swamp his spark for a long few moments.

All the work and care and love he had laid down for his younglings, it hadn't mattered. Their beautiful golden sparks had extinguished anyway. He could remember the horror and burning pain that had crept like a virus through his systems when he heard of the attack centered on the Cube's former hidden location. Optimus had rushed down into the cavern, no care for secrecy.

If the Decepticons had attacked the cavern, it would not be the Cube they would find but his precious younglings and the secret was already out. A trio of mechs, Ironhide being one of them, accompanied him and Optimus saw the broken tattered and torn remains of what had served as the youngling's refuge. Scans had shown no signs of life and Optimus had not the will or time to dig through the rubble and locate any of the broken frames from beneath it.

He did not speak of their demise to anyone but in the seclusion of his quarters, he had mourned for them and his missing bondmate.

Venting hard, Optimus straightened and headed back toward the Autobot hangar. He needed to report to the med-bay and get an update from Ratchet and see how Jazz's repairs were coming along.

* * *

><p><em>His world expanded in a single nano-klick.<em>

_Fluttering sensations somewhere in the Middle._

_-wherewashewhowashe-_

_He could feel Something hard under him and he felt nothing no matter how much he reached out and flailed to wrap his fingers on anything!_

_Gentle touch, warm and just right, scooping his entire being and then cradled against another hard Something. It took a moment but this time he felt the soothing pulses of the Familiar one against his frame._

_He cooed to this Familiar one, to show his happiness at being found. The hard Something vibrated slightly, but that was okay because it was warm and made him feel happy all over again._

_Blearily opening his optic shutters for the first time hurt and he wailed to show his unhappiness, closing them tight again._

_Fuzzy murmurs hit his audios and he felt gentle strokes on his doorwinglets. The discomfort was no longer important and he wiggled against the funny-good sensations. He opened his optic shutters again and blinked drowsily. It didn't hurt and, wow!_

_This place was big!_

_He looked up and up and found soft glowing blue optics gazing down on him with nothing but warmth, affection, and love. Those soothing pulses felt very much the same._

_Beyond the Familiar one was a more powerful lingering power that laid itself on his frame like physical love._

_Satisfied and content, he curled into the warm embrace of who he now knew was his Creator, trilling quietly as he began to fall into recharge for the first time._

_"I will always cherish you, little one... recharge well Prowl."_

_..._

_Prowl awoke sharply when loud voices and sounds made his audios ring painfully. The voices were raised in anger, his sensitive sensor net taking those emotions and filling him with anxiety and he whimpered, curling into the nest-like cradle that was carefully inserted halfway into the wall, clutching his audios in an attempt to make the noises go away. Opening his optic shutters all the way he saw the pastel green wall of his pod-shaped cradle and the flickering of the delicate lights on the ceiling._

_Those lights shouldn't be on, Prowl wondered in surprise! There were only on during play time and energon time!_

_Scared, but understandably curious, he grabbed the rim of his cradle and used his tiny youngling strength to pull himself up and peered out at the room. His optics widened in wondrous shock at the unfamiliar mechs standing at the doors and entering the rooms, each holding a large shiny object that ended in long cylinders._

_Prowl was confused; none of them were Optimus or the femmes he knew so well. The only comfort he could glean from the group of strangers was each of them had blue optics. In fact one pair of blue optics were staring straight at him in similar shocked wonder._

_"Ultra Magnus! There! There they are! The youn-" The mech's loud shouting was cut off as the one Prowl guessed was called Ultra Magnus smacked him in the back of the helm and growled, "Quiet, Snapclip. You'll scaring them."_

_The femmes entered from the Other Place, a place he was not allowed to go in because it was to dangerous, and soon rapid speech was echoing loudly in the chamber._

_"What is your problem? You can't just run into the back room like that!" Green and silver._

_"Yeah, don't you know this place is the... you know!" Pink and white._

_"What if those slagg-" Blue and white._

_"Language." Violet and silver._

_"-'Cons, followed you!" Blue, black, and white. (3)_

_Prowl clicked earnestly for the violet and silver colored femme as she drew close. Cradled in her arms, he contentedly intended to return to recharge when he suddenly registered the Strong Powerful Presence, the Allspark Optimus had called it, beginning to fade._

_Spark deep fear, the first time he experienced the black emotion, made him scream, his high vocalizer accompanied by his playmates own distressed screams. No amount of comfort the femme gave him helped. Only when Optimus appeared through the door that the strangers were leaving through and gathered him and his brothers in his arms, did he calm to the soothing words._

_Trusting that it would all be 'okay soon, I promise' again._

_..._

_Prowl's optics widened as the door opened and strangers, new ones, poured into the room. He was scooped up immediately into the green and silver femme's arms forcing him to drop his favorite toy, a soft fabric stitched over a bunch of white fluffy stuff in the shape of the red picture on the femmes' and Optimus' chassis, and he cuddled into her as confused words turned into angry, hostile ones._

_When Prowl was suddenly pushed into the depths of his cradle he backed up and curled into a tight ball, trying to pull in his developing doorwings closer, "Oppymus..." He whimpered when lights illuminated the room, brighter than he had ever seen them before and making his optics sting._

_Loud '_psshhew_' sounds accompanied with more colorful but just as bright lights, exploded around him. A mix of these sounds and the femmes shouting lasted for half a breem before he looked up at a looming shadow shielding the light; bright blue and purple optics looked down on him._

_The following breems happened to fast for his undeveloped processor to comprehend. Large, rough hands, lacking the gentle carefulness of Optimus', plucked him from his cradle and far to scared to form words he resorted to rapid, distressed chirps and clicks. He called in unforgotten sparkling speech to the femme he knew the best; the violet and silver one! He could hear her and the other femmes shouting and yelling._

_"You fragging GLITCH! Put them dow-gah!"_

_"Ah-Please! Leave them alone!"_

_"NO!"_

_"How dare you do this! Optimus will not allow you to escape!"_

_He spotted his brothers being taken in a similar manner from their cradles and Prowl whimpered looking up into the red and silver faceplates, large tears beginning to leak from his optics._

Prowl awakened from his stasis-recharge with a start, his sensors beginning to stretch out over his surroundings cautiously. Instinctively he tried to curl up but found himself unable to move his legs or arms. Panicking against his disability, he scanned himself and calmed down extensively. He was in an alternate mode; that was why he could not move; he was okay. Prowl turned his tires left to right before transforming with a ringing screech of metal and small flecks of red flakes drifted lazily from his joints. Prowl stared down at the rust flakes in dawning fear and hurriedly checked his joints, scratching at the red rusted parts of his paint.

He trembled, looking around himself wildly, his little doorwings twitching from the air currents buffering all around him. Crouching down he curled up a bit, though kept on his feet to avoid sitting in the... organic stuff...

Prowl's curiosity overrode his fear and he poked the ground, feeling it slightly part and sink in from his touch. Scanning it he found it was just a composition of many organic materials. Just beyond his HUD's scrolling of self-scan results was another ping that told of a completed connection to something called the 'World Wide Web'. Curiously he probed into the connection and did what he did best.

Ask questions.

Earth. He was on Earth. Home of the species called humans; a organic species that seemed currently unaware of beings like him. The squishy composition he stood on was called dirt; harmless. The air that was making his sensor panels twitch uncontrollably held not ill intent of any kind that could harm a being made of metal. More at ease with his surroundings now that he had sufficient information from this World Wide Web, Prowl uncurled and began to take in what was around him.

Big dingy buildings were on either side of him. The structures were, scanning the material and matching it with the World Wide Web, made of brick, cement, and metal supports. Prowl tilted his head and chirred cautiously, these building did not look like the majority of the ones on the World Wide Web. They looked abandoned and dark. Creeping as silent as he could toward one of them and avoiding a small green, icky looking dumpster, he stared into a covered window and saw his own bright blue optics staring back at him.

From what he could see of his frame, it was dented, scratched, and... someone seemed to have painted in drippy vibrant red on his right doorwing something that said 'Suck it COPPER!' and etched into the glass of his left doorwing said, 'City Kitty, City PUSS-E!'

Bewildered at the writing, he frowned and stepped back away from the window. Turning his optics to the only entry way out of this outside hallway -alley-, he moved forward and gingerly stepped out of the confined space, looking around.

"Oh my GOD!" "What the hell is that!"

Prowl's doorwings arched high and he spun to face his left and saw a human couple with... modifications? all over their faces about thirteen feet and seven inches away. He was perhaps two or three feet taller than them.

Fear flared within him when the taller one, a male of the homosapiens, pulled out a small silver compact electronic device. Prowl quickly darted into the alley again on reflex but found himself staring at the back of another structure. Hearing and sensing the humans approaching the alley he was in, Prowl struggled to remember how he got into his alt mode. He had never done it, conscious, before! Prowl desperately delved into his programming, spurred on by fear, and he located a command that seemed right, following the sub-routine. A slight screech of metal and flexing wires and he was safely in his vehicle mode again.

Prowl would have adopted a 'deer-in-headlights' look if he had been in root mode but as it was, the humans who ran into the alley stopped abruptly a few feet in. According to their chemical reactions that were firing off in their bodies, they were experiencing nervousness and a bit of confusion at the sight of something.

Him?

Scanning his vehicle mode quickly and matching the results with ones on the World Wide Web, Prowl was swept with relief. He had a way out. He was a Dodge Charger, albeit a bit of an older version of them. Yet it was what his paintwork displayed, the strange pattern on his doors, and the bar of lights across his roof represented for humans. He was what they called a Police Vehicle.

Exploring his new alternate mode, he turned on his headlights and he discovered one of them were badly shattered when it made a 'fssh' sound and flickered on and off. Revving his engine, he received a loud puttering sound from it and he shuddered on his tires. Tires that hadn't been moved in their existence that he began to roll back and forth on. So involved in his own alternate mode, he realized that the humans were quickly retreating from his rocking form.

Giggling inwardly now that danger had passed, he slowly made his way onto the dimly lit and vacant street and paused. He had no idea what to do.

What did cars do here on Earth?

Accessing the World Wide Web he inputted his question on a website called Google and received his answer. Finding another website, he read the 'beginners' Driver's Course Textbook, -amazingly simple!- and he pulled out of the alleyway completely to drive down the dark street confidently.

More relaxed now that he had a grasp on his surroundings, Prowl looked back on his waking memory purges.

It had been of his first memory. The first time he had felt the soothing presence of both his Creator, Optimus Prime, and the Allspark, his Creator's Creator. His engine involuntarily purred to life at the memory of warmth, so greatly contrasted against the biting cold of this planet's night weather. He longed to curl up in Optimus' arms again, be reassured after the stressful night he had that it was okay.

More than that, he didn't want to be alone anymore.

The second part had been when the mech, Ultra Magnus, had apparently been ordered by Optimus Prime to take the Allspark away for it's own safety, so that bad mechs would not get it. It had taken a while for him to calm down in his Creator's arms but when he had, he had tried to understand that it was okay despite feeling spark-deep distress at it's absence. The empty feeling that appeared soon after the Allspark had been taken away grew larger and bigger. The comfort of the Allspark's soothing waves of nipping energy was gone; the calm of it's presence gone. Only Optimus made the ache go away.

The third memory had been the scariest. Optimus had not been down to visit them for a long time and while Prowl and his brothers had been playing with their toys, strange mechs had broken into the room that had been their entire lives. He had been taken from that familiar room with his brothers and into a huge place with more strange mechs. No more natural humming or soft clinks from the deep pockets of Primus' frame to lull them to recharge. Instead, loud clanks and bangs and empty echoes of lifeless metal that caged his brothers and himself.

Shaking himself of the memory purge and locking it back away, Prowl focused on his, albeit wobbly, driving and on the last puzzle as he came to a stop at a red light, which was really more of a rose-colored hue. He could remember at some point during his stay on the large ship, piercing alarms ringing out throughout the ship and accompanied by the bright red lights that sent odd signals that read WARNING to his HUD. Prowl, scared and alone because the... caretakers -he had no other name for them because they were not nice like the femmes!- had rushed off with the cylinder things -guns-, had curled in an uncomfortable scrappy cradle with his brothers in fear.

The fear had not lasted long. When the familiar tugging of the Allspark swept over them, they had not cared. How he had fallen from the ship was confusing but he remembered a long square thing that he had tumbled down, a bit painfully, before feeling a funny weightlessness; but Prowl had not panicked. Somewhere in a direction Prowl could instinctively feel, was the Allspark and he had to get to it! It had been pure instinct and programming that had activated the pod like sequence to his frame and then he had blacked out, awakening on Earth only half a joor ago.

It explained why he had been in stasis; not why he had woken. Idling in the intersection, Prowl dived into his processor's workings to locate what had awoken him. A timer of some sort? Was he hungry enough to waken himself? Prowl whimpered mentally at the thought of food, energon; oh he was hungry so much, his ignored, empty tanks were now making themselves known in the front of his processor. Shaking the hunger away as best as he could, he continued his search. Then he found it. It was subtle and small but it had woken him up; it must be important!

Accessing the small bundled transmission, he listened carefully.

"...With the All Spark gone, we cannot return life to our planet. And fate has yielded its reward: a new world to call home. We live among its people now, hiding in plain sight, but watching over them in secret, waiting, protecting. I have witnessed their capacity for courage, and though we are worlds apart, like us, there's more to them than meets the eye. I am Optimus Prime, and I send this message to any surviving Autobots taking refuge among the stars. We are here. We... are waiting. "

The light flashed green -which was again, really just a bright aqua hue- and Prowl gunned his engine, speeding through the intersection. A late thought and his bar of lights across his roof lit up and a semi-loud wailing of alarms poured from his alt. mode as he rushed through the streets. His spark pulsed rapidly, eagerness and hope driving away his fear and hunger. Somewhere in his spark, that familiar tugging lightly pulled at his spark again, now noticed after his long stasis-nap. Where the Allspark was and Optimus would be.

Optimus Prime.

He was on Earth.

He was waiting.

He was...

* * *

><p><strong>Five Days Later; Diego Garcia, NEST HQ<strong>

Optimus's recharge was broken by the sound of a comm. link ping in his HUD. His optic shutters opened to the darkness of his personal quarters, jointed to his makeshift office. Lifting a finger to activate it, Optimus gave a heavy silent sigh as he swung his legs off the berth and sat up. +Optimus Prime, here.+ He greeted quietly. His recharge had been haunted as it always was, by scenes and battles of the war. It seemed even in his time of replenishing rest, the war would continue to be fought.

+Sorry to interrupt ya Prime, but there are five spark signatures popping up on the radar. They are all heading this way!+ Ironhide reported over the comm., his vocals rough and wary.

Optimus was already making his way out of his quarters with recharge and memory purges forgotten and heading to the parameter of the island where Ironhide's energy signature was flaring out vividly. Beside him was Bumblebee's and... Jazz's! There was a moment of relieved elation at the thought of his second in command back to his functioning and energetic self. +Autobot or Decepticon?+ He questioned.

+Neither Prime, they're jus' speedin' this way. Signals are givin' off a neutral beacon. Of course that never really means anythin', now does it?+ Jazz's smooth and very welcome vocals came over the comm. It was obvious by the undertone of static in his vocals that he was tired despite the show of energy he attempted to display. Evidently he was not completely repaired; agreed to light duty or less than that just to get out of the med-bay. Optimus would have reported Jazz had a case of ADD to Ratchet if it were not for the fact that they were Cybertronians and not humans. Still, Optimus had a suspicious thought that Jazz's excitement and ability to not sit still had a more... darker side to it. It was usually the case in all Special Operation mechs to have unusual behavior or quirks. It was their way of coping.

+Acknowledged, Jazz. I am en route. Standby and do not fire unless fired upon first.+ Optimus ordered and he began a brisk jog-walk to span the five miles of the base without disturbing the humans. He did not want to scare off any potential defecting Decepticons. With Megatron gone, he hoped that many of the Decepticons would realize an end this long war could end here on his organic planet. If they sought asylum, he intended to give them a chance for it. He passed tense soldiers, casually trying to appear as if they weren't prepping for a battle as they linger around assault vehicles and 'counted' the ammo packs in their belts and pockets.

Optimus held in a small sigh when he turned into a long stretch of open concrete in between rows of warehouses along the edge of the Central facilities that made up the NEST base and saw Galloway attempting to interrogate an annoyed Lennox and a very aggravated Epps. Sympathetic to his human comrades situation he approached them quickly and transformed, popping his doors open.

"Captain Lennox, Sergeant Epps, I require your presence at the parameter. Speed is of the essence." He had barely finished his sentence before the pair had darted past a red-faced Galloway and jumped into his cab, slamming the doors shut themselves. Optimus spared a nano-klick to apologize to the Liaison before he, as the humans say, 'burned rubber' and sped to where his subordinates waited for him. The shouts and curses of the Liaison caused great amusement to his passengers and he had to add in a chuckle when Epps patted his dash and said jokingly,

"Knew we would need ya for somethin' some day, big man!"

Reaching the spot where Ironhide had gathered the other Autobots and some scattered NEST operatives, he stopped beside Ironhide and swung his doors open for the Captain and Sergeant to climb out before transforming back into root mode. As Ironhide leaned down a bit to speak with the two humans and give them an situation report, Optimus took a moment to turn and smile at Jazz. Warmly, he said, "Welcome back, my friend."

Jazz sent him a million credit grin, posing, thumbs up and all the unique quirks that made the Spec. Ops Commander Jazz, "Thank ya, Prime! It's great ta be back! 'M prepped and read-OW!" Jazz hollered clutching at his midsection with a grimace of pain where there was a bright white welding standing out against his shiny silver paintwork. Bumblebee let out a series of sound bytes as he pulled his finger back and looked at Jazz with a scolding glare. Jazz glared back at Bumblebee through a flickering visor though the Camaro simply abandoned his silent rebuke and shrugged and looked pointedly at Optimus.

Understanding his scout well, he told Jazz, "You are welcome my friend. However, before I put you back on the duty roster I shall wait for a report from our Chief Medical Officer."

"Glad to know you learned something, Optimus." Ratchet's gruff tone rang out in the open air and as the medic turned on Jazz with a powerful annoyance -"I let you out of the med-bay and a mere half a joor later your getting sand in your joints! WHAT IS YOUR MALFUNCTION!" spurred by spark-deep care, Optimus turned back to the open expanse of beach, his beach of peace and quiet solace, and the spanning waters beyond it.

"Has to be the seekers, right? They're the only 'Cons able to travel over water." Ironhide muttered quietly, his optics shifting over the horizon intently.

Optimus silently thought it over and came to a similar conclusion, however there was something about the whole situation that rang false. Seekers were known to either flew solo or in multiples of three. He had not seen a formation of five seekers except for celebration performances before the war. Something wasn't adding up.

"Optimus, with your permission, I'm going to spread my men along the coast!" Lennox's voice, unhindered by it's volume and the differences of height, rose up to his audios and he looked down at the brave man standing at ease near his pedes, no fear in his eyes as he tilted his head back and met his gaze directly. "The last thing we need is a flanked attack." Optimus nodded his consent and he replied,

"Of course, Captain. Form the teams as you see fit."

Will grinned with the exuberance of a much younger man and then he turned to his subordinates and directed them with a strong will and trust and each NEST operative followed each order to the letter, no matter how small their orders were. Epps hopped in a jeep and whistled over at Jazz, "Yo man! Ya gonna tag along with the organics?"

Optimus watched Jazz smirk and start to head over before wincing and looking back at Ratchet who was glaring at him with a critical optic. Then the medic's gaze softened and he growled, "At least try to not break the welding." Jazz whooped with an equal enthusiasm as the humans he would be accompanying did before transforming in an less than stellar acrobatic show he usually displayed, much to Ratchet's apparent satisfaction. The little band of exuberant humans and a silver Pontiac Solstice raced down the span of the beach, heading west.

"Bumblebee!" The scout turned at attention at Will's call, "Head east with team Beta! Keep your eyes to the sky!"

The chorus of 'Born to be Wild' poured from Bumblebee's speakers as he transformed and lead the band of vehicles in Beat team east, the entire load of humans either laughing or singing along.

"Man... that Camaro sure does something for the nerves..." Will remarked, watching the shrinking team disappear in the distance. Optimus smiled slightly at the thought. As a mechling, Bumblebee still radiated that joy and spark of a youngling which affected both his actions and the moods of all those around him. Even back on Cybertron, Bumblebee had been a leading reason why there were still Autobots fighting when the cycles had grown black and hopeless.

"Signals approaching Prime." Ironhide muttered, his cannons beginning to crackle with energy and spark blue as they hummed online. Optimus stepped a little closer to the draping waves of the sea, narrowing his optics at the pink hued sky. For a full five minutes there was a tense silence with every Cybertronian and human still, watching and scanning the area around them for any sign of Decepticons.

Optimus could admit even he was feeling nervous when after so much time, by seeker speed standards, there was not even a faint hum of engines or thrusters carrying on the tropical wind. His already aching neck cables protested the extra time of his tilted head. Subtly, he lowered his head and gave a quick roll of his shoulders, appearing like nothing more than a small twitch or so he hoped, less he unleash the fury of the CMO. Trying to ignore the aching that was still attacking his neck cables, he focused on the horizon that was beginning to blend into a softer pink with a mix of white clouds and growing pastel blue. Wait...

Optimus narrowed his optics at the water and saw what appeared to be a luxury speed boat zipping cleanly through the water toward the island. Optimus was so bewildered at the shock of seeing such a normal and non-threatening vehicle that for a full minute, his processor was preoccupied with trying to figure out why there was a human speed boat heading straight for an island that officially did not exist to the public optic. Then he noticed that there was no human driver aboard the boat.

As he was about to inform Ironhide, Ratchet, and the NEST operatives that the boat was one of the Cybertronians, he spotted something moving inside of the boat. A small head popped up from behind the tinted gray windshield on the front of the boat with a pair of large shining blue optics looking about curiously before a blue hand shot up and pressed the head down and out of sight again.

The bright pair of optics however had stalled Optimus' confusion and replaced it with a direly fragile hope. It **_couldn't_** be possible...

"DECEPTICONS!" Ironhide bellowed from beside him and Optimus jerked out of his hopeful thoughts in time to see Ironhide lift his cannon and aim for the boat, the crackling blue sparks flying from the spinning weapon. Optimus bodily grabbed the cannon, ignoring the mild stinging pain from the radiating cannon energy that stung at his hands as he shoved it skyward, shouting out, "Ironhide, NO!"

His hands now aching as much as his neck cables, he ignored the cries of alarm from the humans and Ironhide's, "What the _Pit_, Prime!" and instead hurried to the shore, stopping ankle joint deep in the salt water as the boat kept coming toward the island.

Seven miles.

"Optimus?" Lennox called out warily.

Five miles.

"Prime, what are we waiting for?" Ironhide growled angrily.

Three miles.

"Hope." Optimus whispered quietly.

One mile!

Optimus felt his spark pulse strongly when the boat seemed to jump off of the water's surface and then began to change it's form in midair, three little bodies and a small rectangular box, a portable radio that began to change in the air as well, fell out of the 'boat' in the process. In the end, it was five forms that reflected the growing morning sunlight off their metallic skin that fell into the ocean water with large splashes and surprised chirps that caused windshield-wiper fluid to sting at Optimus' optical wires and begin to lightly mist over his optical lenses. He watched the disturbed water surface with trembling hands raising as if to reach out for them, shoving the background sounds of the NEST operatives into the back of his processor. At that moment nothing else mattered except for the ones that were underneath the water's surface.

Then, one by one, five youngling's popped their heads out of the water with expressions ranging from excited to confused to curious.

"Holy fraggin' Primus..." He heard Ratchet and Ironhide mutter in shock from where they stood farther back. Optimus sent a quick message labeled urgent to Ironhide, to inform the humans to be as silent and motionless as possible, that these were not enemies. Trusting his friend to do as, not ordered, but requested, Optimus focused back on the younglings wholly.

The younglings were chirping at each other then looked over at them,_ him_, with large blue optics filled to the brim with innocence and hesitance. Optimus smiled warmly at them and knelt partially in the salt water, opening the youngling bond that he had so desperately kept closed for all these long vorns of thinking their golden sparks were diminished.

He felt their sparks like he had felt them the first time each had come online. His younglings. His beautiful younglings. Their strong presences' filled him again and he felt their fear, their wariness, and their deep instinctual desire for comfort and love from a caretaker or Creator; something they had been without for far, far to long. He reached out to them physically and through the bond he shared with them.

"It is alright, my younglings." He murmured, "You are safe now."

Their awareness of his identity came slowly but with the same hopeful power he had felt only klicks ago. Another nano-klick of silence then a small black and white form scrambled through the water and whistled eagerly as he made his way to him. Optimus did not hesitate when the youngling reached him and he scooped up the tiny being in his arms. Old programming resurfaced in nano-klicks, prepared and always prepped to be reactivated, and Optimus cradled the youngling, adjusting the youngling so his helm rested against his chassis, offering the sought comfort that the youngling craved.

The first's courage and the proof of safety quickly urged the rest of the younglings to clamor through the salt water, each of them latching onto him and whistling in broken Cybertronian. Optimus allowed each one of them to attempt to scale his legs to their preferred perches and he had no qualms to being almost knocked back on his aft by their overeager actions. As they all tried to swarm onto him, he chuckled and decided that he would have to let them accommodate themselves on his frame if he wanted to remain in an semi-upright position. He carefully shifted the tiny black and white youngling in his arms into a more secure hold, pausing to study the youngling.

Their appearances had changed, Optimus observed. Despite that though, through the bond he knew them perfectly.

The tiny black and white was clearly the smallest, undeveloped plating holding dings and scratches and massive patches of graffiti all over his body as well as some red patches of rust. He kept a string of anger from the open bond at the horrible scratched phrase on the youngling's window-glass doorwinglets. Despite the damage, which _would_ be fixed as soon as possible, he could see the youngling clearly had taken the guise as a police car and painted the customary black and white with a small nub of gold on his forehead which was forming a small crimson chevron, the little red points barely visible. This tiny youngling was the youngest; Prowl.

Optimus looked to the others and picked up the wildly clicking one with a gentle hand. This was the eldest youngling; Blaster. He was wearing red, orange, and yellow paint, his delicate little audio stubs looked a bit worn as did the buttons and glass on his small boxy chassis that clearly marked him as a tape deck. He looked relatively fine except for the worn appearance of his paint and a few barely there scratches on his glass. Small childish human stickers were placed on his chassis with the characters from what appeared to be the Disney show Winnie the Pooh. Blaster climbed up his arm and perched up on his shoulder, trilling musically.

Optimus merely smiled at Blaster before picking up the shivering red, white, and gray-green youngling that had been trying to get out of the cold salt water by climbing up his leg. As soon as the youngling was clear of the water however, he seemed to forget it and he began poking and prodding at the hand he was scooped up in, curiously pulling at wires in Optimus's wrist, too weak to cause any accidental damage. Optimus chuckled; this was without a doubt the second oldest, Perceptor. Settling Perceptor on his shoulder next to Blaster, he rubbed a soothing finger down Perceptor's weak-plated, and fairly scuffed up, frame. His alternate mode did not seem to be a vehicle but a piece of high-tech lab equipment so his armor was considerably less.

A small hand grabbing one of the struts on his leg made him direct his attention to the youngling that had transformed from the luxury speed boat. He was self-cradled in his dark gray, curved panels attached to his back. They seemed to have been the bottom of the boat and they were forming a dish, allowing him to simply rise up and down on the water as he held securely onto Optimus's leg. The storm gray, navy blue, and black youngling was the second youngest; Beachcomber. Compared to the others, Beachcomber looked very good, with only a few minor scratches on his back panels and some scuffs on his arms and legs. Who ever had owned him and thinking him a simple boat, the thought made him wonder if he should be troubled by it, had obviously taken care of him.

Scooping the contented youngling into his arms, he found the last youngling already climbing up onto his knelt leg and reaching up in the universal 'pick-me-up' gesture. This quiet youngling was painted a soft blue and snow white. If Beachcomber had been very good, this youngling was pristine. Obviously having adopted a vehicle mode, Optimus could only conclude that he had been 'owned' by a human who was obsessed with their car like Sam had been or by a human with immense amounts of money because his plating glimmered with a shine that only a first-rate wax could create; or so Sunstreaker had once, or twice, explained. Optimus chuckled adjusting his grip on Prowl and Beachcomber to pick up the youngling. He knew that this one was the middle child; Mirage.

Mirage firmly settled into the crook of Optimus's left arm and pulled Prowl and Beachcomber over to him as well, ending in a chirping pile of younglings. Perceptor was content as a cyber-cat to stay on Optimus's shoulder and Blaster... well he was having fun trying to get on top of his head if his musical laughs were anything to go by.

With all of them secure, Optimus's stood up and turned to his comrades for the first time since the younglings had appeared. Ironhide looked surprised and a little ill as his cannons spun, humming almost nervously low. Ratchet had an expression of subdued joy as he looked like he was ready to start pulling out the medical equipment from his subspace or drag Optimus and his precious load to his med-bay. The humans were staring in bemusement and wary curiosity at the five younglings.

"Uh, Optimus... mind if I ask what the hell those things are?" Will asked, his grip lax on the gun he had lifted up on Ironhide warning yell of Decepticons. Will was looking at the three piled in his arms with full on human curiosity, accepting his Cybertronian comrade's ease completely.

Optimus smiled at Will, "These five are the Cybertronian equivalent to children, Captain Lennox. They are called younglings."

The five younglings all glanced at him for a moment, sensing they were being talked about, though unable to understand the human language Optimus was speaking, before returning to their own amusements.

"How is this even possible?" Ironhide muttered leaning forward to look at Perceptor more closely, as if not believing that the youngling was even there. Perceptor looked up from the shoulder cables he had been poking and stared at Ironhide intently. Ironhide reared backwards as a small red hand bopped him on the nose and laughter erupted from everyone at the Weapon Specialist's dumbfounded expression. Percepotor clicked almost in a scolding type manner through the laughter as though asking why Ironhide had moved away.

"It doesn't matter how it's possible, I want all of those youngling in the med-bay, stat!" Ratchet growled and he smacked Ironhide's shoulder, "You! Stop taunting the younglings."

"I didn't do anything!"

"I don't care!"

"What? How does that even-"

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Optimus's had been thoroughly entertained by the argument developing between his close friends, instructing his younglings to not bop people on the nose or smack others on the shoulder much to their giggling delight, but his good mood descended when he heard the voice of Liaison Galloway. Optimus knew that it was only a matter of time before the Liaison saw the younglings so he turned without hesitation toward the human. He saw Galloway stop short, his eyes flying from youngling to youngling, his face turning bright red.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE?" He demanded, pointing wildly at the younglings and Optmus had to stop himself from growling at the human's rudeness and insult to _his_ younglings. Thankfully Lennox happily took care of it for him.

Will Lennox was the father of a beautiful, if he did say so and he _did_, baby girl and from the way Optimus had reacted to these younglings, children Cybertronians, made him think there was a connection there. A dad didn't take insults to his children. Optimus however, was an alien robot, so he couldn't do the customary father intimidation routine in the face of insult to his children.

Technically, Will couldn't either but desperate times, and rude bastards, called for desperate measures.

Storming up to the Liaison, Will pointed to the younglings and snapped, "Hey! Shut up, _stop cursing_, and those are children! Cybertronian children! They're _whos_, not _whats_!"

"_Children?_" Galloway shrieked.

Optimus held the younglings in his arms closer, gathering Blaster and Perceptor into his arms as well, and hid a glower at the human. Tendrils of discomfort and unease were filtering through the bond. Though the words were lost on the younglings, they each seemed to realize they were the cause of the yelling and distress was quick to follow the revelation.

"Who the hell said they could have children on this planet!" Galloway continued to shout.

All of the NEST operatives saw the darkening look on their Captain's face and each thought the same thing, '_That bastard is gonna get decked._'

At the same time Optimus messaged Ratchet that he would be heading to the med-bay, stepping over Galloway and heading for the paved road just a couple of yards from the beach. Reaching it, he transformed, carefully slipping the younglings into his cab, Blaster and Beachcomber, and his subspaced trailer, Prowl, Mirage and Perceptor, before heading off toward HQ with Ratchet on his bumper.

Optimus smiled mentally at the feeling of his younglings playfully messing around in his trailer, Blaster playing with his music dials while Beachcomber was sticking his head out of the window. When he felt the younglings reach for his spark again, he met them half-way and sent them a spark-deep message.

'_It's alright. I'm here._'

* * *

><p>(1) I would have used the original thirteen but I could not find the names of all of them that fit into Bayverse without complicating things way to much. -_- So I went with movie canon, or as much of it as I could find because Bay did not like logic apparently. XD<p>

(2) Solus is a female warrior Prime and is indeed a canon character. I created Solis as her 'brother' of sorts and he is not canon. *shrug* They won't really be mentioned again except for maybe once more or so, so yeah.

(3) In order: Moonracer, Arcee, Chormia, Elita-1. ~ Then Chromia again but that should be obvious.

Please review? I do intend to extend more one-shots from this fic. ^^


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